


Poison

by AmnesiaticRoses



Series: 100-Word Challenge [2]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-30 11:06:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3934477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmnesiaticRoses/pseuds/AmnesiaticRoses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes focus can stave off insanity. Sometimes it's too late.</p>
<p>For the 100-word challenge, item 2. (http://queenpetra.deviantart.com/art/100-Word-Challenge-List-146992265)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poison

It is so simple - sighting through the systems, looking out over the field of darkness and light, a single discharge and there - one less light in the darkness. One less enemy, one less-

_-corpse._

-target. Quatre watches as the dazzle of the destruction fades out. He imagines he can see the debris field, but from this distance, that has to be imagination and tricks of light. Still, his eyes paint it onto the velvet ever-night - bits of broken metal, the scattered remains of supplies, the-

_-still body._

-floating remains of personal effects no longer needed by the violent, the hateful and the monstrous. Let them all die. Let the turn to dust and ash, let their bodies become memories and float endless in space.

The darkness makes a void, and he feels like he can still see-

_-his sister, still and silent._

-the bright spot where the colony had been. It feels a little like staring at the sun, then closing his eyes and seeing the blob of color and darkness, squirming and misshapen, against the back of his eyelids.

He wants to just relax for a moment - to just breathe and be. But he has to concentrate - concentrate on the next target. On the colonists who needed to be-

_-protected._

-destroyed. They can't be trusted. Concentrate. Focus on that. Don't think about anything else, don't think about the anger, the mobs, don't think about the voice, that voice, his voice speaking words of useless calm, pointless peace. It doesn't matter, it never mattered, the world, the UNIVERSE, doesn't work like that.

_And then he was gone._

Quatre plots his course, to the next target. Because if he stops, if he thinks, then he remembers. Memory like a poison squirms against his mind.

But poison can only kill if it's allowed in.


End file.
